


a love borne from a little giant

by luckygrub



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Gen, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26308120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckygrub/pseuds/luckygrub
Summary: The way he says it sends shivers down Hitoka’s spine. As if wanting to win is the obvious choice – no, not even a choice at all. As if chasing victory were the only option in the world.Hitoka has never wanted anything the way he wants to win. She's not sure if she ever will.Written for a very belated Day 8 of Haikyuu Girls Week: Happy Yachi Day!
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21
Collections: Haikyuu Girls Week 2020





	a love borne from a little giant

Yachi Hitoka stands outside Karasuno High School’s second gym, and she wonders to herself,  _ how on earth did I end up here? _

Hitoka keeps her head down, for the most part; she does the expected thing. Studies hard, gets good grades. She hadn’t joined a club at the beginning of her first year in high school, and she hadn’t planned on it either. She couldn’t play an instrument or carry a tune to save her life, she wasn’t smart enough for a science or math club, and as for sports clubs, well. Someone like her would only drag the rest of the team down. So that was out of the question. 

Or it was out of the question until a few hours ago, when Shimizu Kiyoko’s pretty hair and eyes and mole made Hitoka’s mind go blank, and her kind smile had rendered her incapable of saying anything but yes. She wasn’t even sure what she was agreeing to. She wasn’t quite sure if it mattered.

She wanted to pass it off as a misunderstanding, but Shimizu was waiting outside her classroom when the bell went, and all Hitoka could think about was the way her face lit up when Hitoka had said yes.  _ She wants me there, _ Hitoka thought dazedly.  _ She actually wants me there _ . So she followed Shimizu to the school’s second gym.

Now, standing in the doorway surrounded by boys who tower over her, she starts to regret her decision all over again. 

The boys are all tall and scary and big, and the force of their voices combined almost knocks Hitoka right off her feet. But thanks to Shimizu, she manages to escape the gym unscathed. 

She leans against the wall outside the gym and lets out a breath. 

What on earth did she get herself into?

~~~

Hinata Shouyou waltzes into her classroom during lunch the next day, with Kageyama Tobio trailing behind him, and Hitoka nearly keels over in her seat. 

They want her to tutor them, of all things, and even with all her reservations, she finds herself enjoying it; Hinata’s an eager learner, and he makes anything more interesting just by  _ being _ there. He’s bright and happy and showers her in compliments, even though she scribbles all over his notes. He’s so fascinated and excited by her simple tips that it makes Hitoka blush up to her ears.

“Um, Hinata-kun?” 

“Just call me Hinata!” 

“Oh. Okay.” His easy familiarity is a shock to her system. “Um, Hinata? Do you not like to study?”

He grimaces. “I hate it,” he gripes. “Having to sit still for so long drives me nuts!”

That much she can see. “But now you’re making an extra effort because of that field trip?”

“Yeah!” His whole demeanor changes, his face brightening instantly. “We’re gonna go to Tokyo and play lots of practice games against super good teams!”

He radiates love, passion for volleyball. It’s so eagerly on display for everyone to see, beaming outwards and lighting up the whole room. 

“That’s amazing,” she murmurs. “I’ve never gotten so passionate about anything I’ve ever done.”

He chatters on and on about a school called Nekoma, a genius setter, a rooster, for some reason. He never seems to run out of steam; always has more to say. Hitoka’s brain hurts just trying to understand. Unfortunately for her, Hinata doesn’t seem ready to take a break just yet.

“There are so many really awesome teams out there!” he says, homework completely forgotten. “Not just in Tokyo, either! In Miyagi, there’s the ‘Great King’ at this school called Aoba Johsai, and Ushiwaka, who’s called the Perennial Champion, and then there’s Date Tech and their ‘Iron Wall’! All of those guys are over six feet tall!”

“Six feet!?” To 4’11 Yachi Hitoka, that may as well be a skyscraper. “Um, are you a manager too, Hinata-kun?”

He balks. “Am I a what!?”

“Well, volleyball is a sport for really tall people, right?” she says hesitantly. “I saw a whole bunch of really big people at practice yesterday-”

“I’m a player too!” he yelps, offended. “I’m even a starter!”

Her heart comes crashing down. Judging someone solely based on appearance - she can’t believe she did something so  _ rude. _

She bows deeply, burying her head beneath the table. “I am so, so sorry for my lapse in judgement!”

“Nah, it’s okay,” Hinata says, voice light. “I’m used to it!” She peers up at him from beneath the desk. He’s standing up, the sun shining across his face. He looks - ethereal. Larger than life. 

“Even if I’m not really tall,” he says proudly, jabbing his thumb at his chest. “I can fly!” 

His expression makes her heart race. His excitement - it’s infectious. Hitoka can almost see wings behind him, sleek black feathers glinting in the sunlight. It suits him. 

Kageyama hasn’t looked up from his notes, clearly unimpressed. “Aren’t you going to copy these, Hinata?”

Hinata flushes. “Oh. Yeah. Right.”

He sits down, picks up his pencil. “There are tons of really big, really awesome players,” he says, voice bright and intense, full of a contagious excitement. “But when I’m out there on the court, I can tell that I’m on even ground with them. That we’re competing.”

“It’s super exciting!” he says, grinning. “Just thinking about it gives me the shivers!”

Thinking about it sends shivers down Hitoka’s spine, too. The image comes easily to her; Hinata keeping up with, even outstripping people far taller and bigger than him, on a court where height is a gift.

For someone like Hinata, it doesn’t seem impossible at all. 

~~~

The rest of the lunch break passes in a blur. The bell goes, and Hinata jolts to his feet. She agrees to teach them some more; when he shakes her hand in thanks, her whole body jolts up and down. “See you at practice this afternoon!” he shouts, waving his arm frantically. 

Being around Hinata, directly under the endless light he emits, leaves her feeling warm and a bit shriveled. But - it’s intoxicating, a little bit. He is sunshine incarnate, his very nature drawing everyone into his orbit. Maybe that’s the reason she doesn’t have to force herself to go to Karasuno’s second gym after the bell goes. Despite all the fears and hesitations, she finds herself standing in the doorway with Hinata Shouyou yelling her name. 

“Yachi-san! Look! I had a pop quiz in English today and the stuff you taught me earlier was on it! I actually got a whole third of them right!”

His energy is so infectious that she can’t help but cheer for him, leap in the air the same way he does, even though her brain is well aware that 33% is not an impressive grade at all. 

Shimizu greets her at the doorway, and her smile is almost kind enough to relax Hitoka’s heart. She watches them practice, volleyballs blurring past her face into the floor faster than her eyes can follow. Karasuno had been champions once, according to Shimizu. But they had tumbled from their pedestal. Everyone called them the Fallen Champions. The Clipped-Wing Crows. 

Hitoka looks at this team, and she doesn’t think they are fallen at all. 

Practice is over far too quickly, and they have a practice match scheduled for the next day. And even though Hitoka won’t be playing tomorrow, isn’t even a part of the team, the thought of a real match sends shivers down her spine all over again. 

She is waiting outside the gym for Shimizu (who is walking  _ her _ home, when it really should be the other way around) when she hears voices from the gym. 

“What’s with the long face, Sensei? Is something wrong?”

She can recognize Coach Ukai’s voice. She peers through the window to listen better. 

“Oh, not really.” Is that Takeda-sensei? From Modern Literature? “It’s just… well… I thought we could borrow the school bus for our Tokyo field trip, but apparently another club is scheduled to use it on those days, so we won’t get it. Expenses look like they might be higher than expected, too. I was just wondering what to do about it.”

The words sink in, and the gears in Hitoka’s head start spinning. Maybe she could-

“YACHI-SAN!”

Hinata’s voice knocks the thoughts straight out of her head. He’s followed by two second years, their stern captain and kind-eyed vice-captain, who all, shockingly enough, seem to  _ want  _ her there. 

A part of her wants to be there, too, surrounded by their limitless passion and infectious energy, with Shimizu and this team, who want her around in the way her peers never really have. She isn’t used to this - she is not like them. She is just plain old Villager B. 

And every single one of them radiates a passion she couldn’t hope to match. Not all of them were loud about it. Not all of them were like Hinata. But they all had the resolve to stand on that court and work as hard as they could. 

Hitoka doesn’t know how to be a part of this team. After all, what could someone like her bring to the table? Why did they need a Villager B at all?

Their yells, bright and passionate, echo off the walls as they read a text off Hinata’s phone, and Hitoka lets out a long breath. Maybe she should sleep on it. 

~~~

The next day, she sets up folding chairs along the court in preparation for their practice game. Hinata jogs up, grinning brightly. “Need help?”

“N-no, I’m fine! Thanks, though.”

She sets up the last chair, and turns around to see Hinata smack his palms on either side of his face. Her heart leaps into her throat.

“We are  _ not _ going to lose today!” he vows, eyebrows knit in a tight frown. 

It’s so  _ jarring _ , seeing his normally cheerful face worked into an uncharacteristic glare. It’s also so incredibly confusing. 

“Um,” she starts. “Today is just a practice game, right?”

“Yeah?”

“And your field trip to Tokyo is just for practice games too, right? Why study so hard and get all worked up for games that don’t count?”

“Huh?” He looks at her like she’s grown a third head. “I wanna get better and win, that’s why.”

“Oh! Um… okay.” She scratches her head awkwardly. Laughs a little. “I guess everyone has their own reasons for wanting to win.”

He frowns at her. “Reason? For winning?”

“Um, yeah.”

He looks at her, eyes wide.

“Do you really need a reason to not want to lose?”

The way he says it sends shivers down Hitoka’s spine. As if wanting to win is the obvious choice – no, not even a choice at all. As if chasing victory were the only option in the world. 

Hitoka has never wanted anything the way he wants to win. She’s not sure if she ever will. 

The game starts, and Hitoka watches, eyes wide as they smash ball after ball into the floor, score point after point, pound ball after ball into the wooden planks of the gym floor. The ball flies faster than Hitoka can follow with her eyes. The sound of the ball hitting the floor makes her ears ring; it’d probably rip her arms off if she tried to touch it. 

“What a loud sound!” she says, amazed. “They certainly are showy!”

“Yes, they certainly are,” Kiyoko says, giggling. “But if you let yourself get distracted by our two power hitters…”

A blur of orange down the center. Kiyoko smiles. 

“You’ll lose sight of the smallest crow.”

Hinata jumps, a blur too fast for Hitoka’s eyes, and spikes the ball down the center of the court. The blockers never stood a chance. 

_ Even if I’m not really tall, I can fly! _

“Fall even half a step behind,” Kiyoko says, her voice low, like she’s letting Hitoka in on a secret, “and you’ll never catch him.”

“Not good enough!” yells Hinata from the court. “I can hit it even higher.” 

“Right!” 

Hitoka can’t believe he still isn’t satisfied. But the next time he spikes it, he jumps even higher than before. He never rests, never slows down. 

Hitoka thinks to herself, _ that’s what love looks like.  _

(She doesn’t think she’s ever felt that way about anything.)

~~~

“That was amazing!” she gushes. “Amazingly amazing! Just watching you play, I was like… like!”

“Like HOAAH?!!” Hinata yells. 

“Yeah! Like that!” 

“Great! Then be our manager!” 

She closes her eyes, looks at the floor. “But I’ve never really played any sports. With a team this great, I’d only be-”

“Oh, y’know what?” Hinata interrupts. “I played Villager B once too!”

She looks up at him. “Huh?”

“But then the teacher got really mad at me because I kept trying to outact the main characters,” he says, laughing sheepishly. 

Hitoka smiles to herself. It makes sense; Hinata Shouyou is not someone suited to being in the background. Hinata Shouyou is no Villager B. 

(Hinata Shouyou is nothing like her.)

Kageyama snickers. “You? Villager B?”

Hey! Don’t laugh, Kageyama!” Hinata puts his hand on his hips. “Villager B is super awesome in his own way!”

The rest of the world falls away. The two of them are still bickering about play roles, but Hitoka’s whole world feels like it’s been turned on its head.  _ Villager B is super awesome in his own way.  _

_ Expenses look like they might be higher than expected.  _

Hitoka goes home, with Hinata’s words echoing in her mind. She pulls a poster design book off her shelf, and gets out her pencil and paper. 

She can be super awesome in her own way. 

~~~

“Hitoka, grab the envelope on the counter for me,” her mom calls. “I have another meeting I have to attend. I won’t be home until late.” 

“Okay,” She takes the envelope and walks into the entryway, bracing herself. “Um, mom? Guess what. I’ve been invited to join the boys’ volleyball club as a manager.”

Her mom frowns. “The volleyball club?”

“Yeah!”

“Didn’t Karasuno’s volleyball team qualify for Nationals not all that long ago? They should be a good team.”

“Yeah!” Hitoka thinks of their team, of Shimizu’s words.  _ Our team has an offense that’s among the best in the prefecture.  _ “They’re supposed to be really good this year-”

“Do you even know the first thing about volleyball?” 

Hitoka’s heart drops. 

“Um,” she stammers. “I plan to start looking stuff up about it soon-”

“Whatever,” her mom says, voice dismissive. “Just remember, if you’re going to join a group of very serious people, the rudest thing you can do is give a half-hearted effort.”

She thinks of Hinata, in this moment, a person chasing victory the same way predators chase prey, as if losing would be the difference between his life and death. She thinks of the Karasuno team, of every single one of them working so hard and giving their all. It would be very rude indeed. 

The door slams shut in her face. 

~~~

Hitoka folds and unfolds her club form the next day in the girls’ change room, the creases already well worn. The form is still blank. 

“Are you still not sure?” Shimizu’s voice is soft and kind, but Hitoka still has to stifle a scream of surprise. 

“Just as an aside,” Shimizu starts. “I had played sports before, but I had no experience with volleyball when I first started here.”

Hitoka’s eyes go wide. This seems impossible; she’s seen Shimizu’s complicated statbooks, seen her help out with drills and discuss strategy with coach Ukai like she was born to do it. Shimizu Kiyoko can pick out weak spots on the opposing team and can tell when her own team is playing wrong. She isn’t scared to be around these tall boys who can spike holes into the floor, isn’t afraid of the ball flying towards her face at 100 km/h. 

(Shimizu Kiyoko had once been a beginner, too. The thought fills Hitoka with hope.)

“I don’t think you need to be a big fan of something before you start it, to be honest,” Shimizu says, tugging her shirt over her head. “Nobody needs an unwavering desire or a grand incentive to give something a try. Even when you start something on a whim, over time, it can grow into something very important to you.” 

She turns towards Hitoka, smile bright. “All that’s really necessary is a little bit of curiosity.”

Curiosity. It doesn’t seem like enough, to throw herself blindly into something she could never keep up in, to bog the team down with her inexperience. But Shimizu, smart, competent Shimizu didn’t know anything about volleyball when she started, either. Maybe, just maybe, Hitoka can learn to be like her too.

(Her mother’s words bounce around in the back of her head.  _ The rudest thing you can do is give a half-hearted effort _ . Yachi Hitoka is not rude. She refuses to do that disservice to this team, who works so hard at everything they do.)

She leaves the changeroom, club form still blank, and catches up to Hinata as they’re walking up the steps to the gym. “Um, Hinata,” she calls. “Do you have a minute?”

“Huh? Sure!”

He listens to her, and he nods, but Hitoka isn’t really sure if he understands. After all, Hinata Shouyou is not exactly the indecisive type.

“So what your mom said made you unsure all over again?”

He makes it sound ridiculous. Maybe it is. 

“You know,” he says brightly. “I’ve already nailed Kageyama in the back of the head with a serve, puked all over Tanaka-san’s pants on a bus ride, and even knocked the VP’s toupee off with a volleyball! And I’m still here, playing volleyball just fine!” 

“Did you really come out of that just fine?” she wonders.

His face turns serious. “When it comes down to it, you wanna do this, right, Yachi-san?” 

She thinks about his confidence, his faith that she’d make a good part of this team.  _ Villager B is super awesome in his own way!  _ She wants to be like that too. She wants to be an awesome Villager B. “Yeah.” 

“Then why not just do it?” he calls as he jogs away to Yamaguchi. 

He makes it sound so obvious. Why don’t you just do it? What’s stopping you from trying? 

She doesn’t know if there is anything in the world that would be able to stop Hinata Shouyou from playing volleyball. 

But, then again, she is nothing like Hinata Shouyou. 

~~~

After practice, she finds the rest of the team crowded around Sugawara, who’s holding a volleyball magazine with Ushijima Wakatoshi on it, wearing a jersey with the Japanese flag emblazoned on it. 

“He’s the only guy they picked from the whole north of Japan,” Daichi is saying, peering over Sugawara’s choulder. “And we have to beat him if we want to get to the Spring Tournament.”

“Wow! He’s gotta be really good!” Hinata spins around to look at Hitoka, making her jump. “We’re gonna have to work extra hard!”

_ We _ . The word warms Hitoka from her head to her toes, but she can’t help but think about her mother’s words, Shimizu’s statbooks, the work that the whole team puts into this club. To call herself a part of it when she couldn’t hope to keep up would be rude. 

She scratches her head. “Oh! Um, I guess?”

Hinata tilts his head. “Is what your mom said still bugging you?”

She wishes, not for the first time, that her face did not give away every single thing that she was thinking. “Um… Not really?”

“Y’know,” he says. “Why don’t you just go tell her?” 

Her whole body goes cold. “What?”

~~~

Hinata Shouyou runs faster than anyone Hitoka’s ever seen. His hand is a vice grip on her wrist, and she stumbles over her legs trying to keep up. Her legs burn. Her lungs burn. She wants to stop, but Hinata doesn’t even look winded; if she stops now, he’d probably even manage to drag her the rest of the way there. 

“Is this the right way?” he shouts, not even slowing down. 

“Y-yeah!” she gasps, barely managing to squeeze the words out. The buildings around her blur as they run by, only getting faster. The subway station isn’t too far from the school, but right now, it could not feel further away. 

“There!” he yells, skidding to a halt in front of the intersection. Cars blur by in front of the entrance, but Hitoka can spot her mom’s coat from a mile away. 

“MOOOOOM!!” 

Her hands rest on her knees as she hunches over and gasps for breath. Her heart races in her chest, and she feels a second away from fainting. Her mom is looking at her like she’s insane, and maybe she is. 

Yachi Hitoka stands up straight, and prepares to tell her mom how she feels.

This is not about volleyball, or about clubs. This is about her wanting to change. She wants to be a little like Hinata Shouyou. She wants to start here, on the street in front of a subway station near Sendai. If she doesn’t start now, she doesn’t know if she ever will. 

She has to say it now. With her own words. 

“Even Villager B can be super cool!!”

Her mom stares at her blankly. She takes a deep breath. 

“I’m going to join the volleyball club and become their manager!”

People are starting to stare, but for the first time, Hitoka couldn’t care less. Her mom’s eyes are wide and bright, and she looks at Hitoka like this is the first time she’s ever seen her. “Oh,” she says. Clears her throat. “Um. Okay. Good luck.”

“Thank you!” Hitoka shouts. She’s still breathing hard, still lightheaded from how long and  _ fast _ she ran. But the grin Hinata gives her is full of pride, and it feels like a shot of pure adrenaline. 

She knows exactly what she has to do next. 

~~~

The next week, with a bit of help from her mother, Takeda-sensei, Kageyama and Hinata, a poster asking for donations goes up in Misaka Electronics. Her mother takes a million photos of it, her smile bright and full of pride. She finally turns in her club form with her mother’s signature, and she gets a beautiful jacket with  _ Karasuno High School Volleyball Club  _ on the back. The team -  _ her  _ team, welcome her in unison, and Hitoka’s heart fills with warmth. She thinks: Villager B can be important, too.

~~~

Yachi Hitoka spends the next three days trying to pull her friends and teammates through final exams, and despite her best efforts, Kageyama and Hinata both fail one each. 

Kageyama missed out on coming by only 2 points, but it’s Hinata’s English paper that makes her shed tears; had he been a little more careful, he could’ve earned a  _ perfect score _ . But now the team is on their way to Tokyo without the two of them. Hitoka helps them study until the very last minute, and prays that they’ll pass on the first try.

(She hadn’t needed to worry, really; no obstacle was insurmountable for the two of them. Especially when it came between them and volleyball.)

In Tokyo, Hitoka learns to stat keep, learns the strategies and tactics used by different teams, listens to Shimizu dissect plays and tries to absorb as much as she can. She watches as Karasuno loses set after set, only winning their first after Kageyama and Hinata finally make an appearance. 

They seem different, though; Hinata’s quick is no longer so invincible, not as unstoppable as she originally thought. He gets blocked, again and again, and the air between Kageyama and Hinata prickles with tension. It spreads to the rest of the team, every single member on edge. 

Kageyama and Hinata don’t sit together on the way back. 

She catches them in the gym that evening, and her shoulders relax when she sees them talking. They ask her to throw balls and she complies, tossing ball after ball for Kageyama to set. 

Hinata misses, again and again. Balls litter the floor of the gym. None of them have made it to the other side. 

He shouts,  _ Again! _ And that’s where Kageyama draws the line. 

Words turn to punches and Hitoka stands, helpless, as their yells echo off the gym walls. They’ve always been loud, always bickered, but this was not the same thing. She begs them to stop, but her words brush over them like a gentle breeze. She isn’t even sure if they can hear her. 

(In the end, she runs and grabs Tanaka. Hinata and Kageyama end the day with matching bandages on their faces, thanks to him.)

She and Hinata walk to the bus stop in silence, the only sound the wheels of his bike. 

“Um! Th-that’s my bus stop over there,” she says. Her voice is too loud, too shaky. “Th-thanks for walking me here.”

He turns to her, smile a pale fraction of its usual self. “Sorry about all that, Yachi-san.”

“Huh!? N-no, it’s okay!” she says hurriedly. “I wasn’t in any danger at all.” 

The image of his half-smile is burned into her eyelids. She doesn’t know if  _ he’ll  _ be okay. 

“Y’see,” he starts. “Back in middle school, I played Kageyama in my first and only middle school tournament. I got creamed by his team. I swore I’d defeat him, but when I got to high school, he was on my team. He was an even bigger jerk than I expected, too. It was rough, at first.”

He looks up from the ground. “But when it comes to real games, it’s like… I dunno. Like I can tell what he’s thinking. For the first time, it felt like I’d found not just a friend, but also a real partner.”

Hitoka’s vision blurs. 

He swings his leg over his bike. “Anyway, see you later.” 

She forces a “see ya” through the pinhole of her throat. She watches Hinata’s retreating back, and thinks about love. 

Love feels like a weird word to describe punches thrown and screams in the gym, but remembering their fight, it’s the only word she can think of. Loving something enough to fight for it. 

They walk past each other silently the next day, not even sparing each other a glance. Hitoka can almost feel frost radiating off them in waves. 

“Uh, Hinata!” she calls. He turns around, eyes wide. “Um… I was just wondering if you were… okay.” He doesn’t say anything for a beat, and her heart starts racing. “Um! Things between you and Kageyama-kun, I mean! Uh…”

Her tongue feels too big, her heart too fast, but he looks at her and smiles, still as bright and happy as usual. “We’re fine!” he says, and the fist relaxes from around her heart. 

_ For the first time, it felt like I’d found not just a friend, but also a real partner.  _

They’re playing on separate teams. They’re practicing apart, and they’re ignoring each other fiercely. But she thinks about Hinata’s words from last night, and she thinks that they’ll be just fine anyway. 

Three weeks later, in the sweltering heat of Saitama, she tells them she’d like to see their quick strike before they go home to Sendai, and they turn around and tell her  _ of course we’ll make it work _ ! in unison, finally on each others’ sides again. Four days later, she watches their all new quick baffle the Fukurodani blockers, and her heart feels full enough to burst.

They hold their fists out towards her in unison. She thinks of partners, and she thinks of love.

~~~ 

“O-oh gosh,” Hitoka mumbles. “N-now that that the real games are here, I’m feeling a little nervous.”

Shimizu smiles kindly. “This is your first real tournament, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Shimizu glances at the players, her eyes thoughtful and serious. “For us third years,” she says. “It’s our last chance.”

Hitoka’s eyes fill with tears.

“Oh!” Shimizu says frantically. “I’m sorry! Please, you don’t have to cry!”

“I-I’m nod!” she blubbers. “A mosquito flew into my eye, that’s all!” 

“A mosquito!?”

The next day, she hovers in the stands as they play, standing behind the black banner bearing their school motto. She meets Coach Ukai’s grandfather in the stands, talks with his students. She cheers as loud as she can whenever Karasuno scores a point. 

They play a game against someone who towers over even Tsukishima, and she feels sorry for poor Hinata, who looks like he’s about to vomit. But neither of them had needed to worry; she watches, her heart swelling with pride as they break their new quick out for the whole world to see, as 5’4 bests 6’7 over and over again. 

They clear the preliminaries and book their slot in the qualifiers. The months between August and October pass in a blur of hard practice and late nights in the gym. The day of the qualifiers dawns far too soon. 

Nothing could’ve prepared her for what came next. 

They play Johzenji first, and Hitoka watches as Hinata launches himself fearlessly after the ball, as he kicks off the wall and runs back onto the court like his life depends on it.  _ This is what love looks like, _ Hitoka thinks. Chasing after it with everything that you have. 

Kageyama is hit in the face as he goes to block a spike, and Hitoka has to run down to meet them near the infirmary. He’s fine, and back on the court in no time, but he and Hinata miss their first quick. It sends her pulse skyrocketing, but Daichi is there to save them.

He stands underneath the banner that reads “Simplicity and Fortitude,” and Hitoka thinks that it’s quite fitting. Daichi is the foundation that the team is built upon. Not the most flashy, not the most outstanding player on the court. But he’s their captain for a reason. Simple and strong. 

They play Wakunan next, and they feel like the polar opposite of what Johzenji was; tenacious and careful. Tanaka and Daichi both dive for a tough ball, and Daichi’s face smashes into Tanaka’s shoulder. Daichi leaves the court with one tooth less, and the team is left without a floor to stand on. 

Fear wraps around her chest, her heart; she sits with Daichi in the infirmary and thinks about his face, twisted in pain as he asks Asahi to hold down the fort. She thinks about his desperation to play for his team, to provide their foundation. Her heart aches, a slow throb in her chest.  _ This is what love looks like, too.  _

They win the match, with Ennoshita playing in Daichi’s stead. (It fits, Hitoka thinks. He’ll make a good captain.) Karasuno moves onto the semifinals against Aoba Johsai, and she doesn’t think she’s imagining the tension in the air. 

Shimizu tells her about a hard fight, a narrow loss. Yamaguchi talks about a missed serve, an opportunity that slipped out of their - no,  _ his  _ grasp. The thought of the weight of the game resting on her like that is enough to stop her heart. 

Yamaguchi steps onto the service line at the tail end of the second set, and for all he was nervous before the game, he doesn’t look scared at all. 

He lands a service ace. Then another. He brings them from 4 points down to one point ahead, and Hitoka can barely make out the shapes on the court through the tears in her eyes. The image of him standing confidently at the service line is pressed to the back of her eyelids. Pride fills her chest, overflows. She has watched him work tirelessly on his serves for months, to reach this very moment, with the lights shining down and the scoreboard tipping in their favour.  _ That’s love, too. _

They take the match in 3, and Hitoka cheers as hard as she can, standing next to Saeko and Shimada and Takinoue. Her eyes fill with tears of pride as the score changes for the final time. 26-24. 

She watches them face Shiratorizawa in the finals the next day, in a seesaw match that has the whole crowd on the edges of their seats. She watches as Hinata flies, again and again, in the face of their blockers, of six foot three Ushijima Wakatoshi, who does everything he can to keep him down. And still he flies. Older Coach Ukai’s words echo in her ears;  _ the only choice he has is to keep flying. _ She watches Tsukishima dislocate a finger then come back for more, and pride and fear swell in her chest in equal measure.  _ This is what love looks like, too _ . 

They take the game in five long sets, and she faints in the stands. 

Later, she blinks tears out of her eyes as her team has medals draped around their necks, as Daichi and Suga hoist the trophy over their heads. Pride lights a fire in her chest, and she can’t wipe the smile off her face. She feels like she’s walking on clouds. 

Even later than that, she watches them fall asleep into their plates of food, and she can feel their neon-bright passion, their steadfast resolve. She hadn’t stood on that court, but she felt their fear and their joy and their love as clearly as if it were her own. 

And somewhere along the way, their feelings had become hers too. This  _ is  _ love, she realizes. This was a whim that turned into a passion, a split-second decision that became love. 

This is where she wants to be. And that’s enough for her. 

~~~

Kageyama comes back from youth camp with a sour expression on his face, and the air crackles with tension. It reminds Hitoka of their return from their first Tokyo field trip. She hopes that they won’t explode.

(Kageyama blows up as soon as the first set is over.)

His eyes go wide, afterwards, and his whole body stiffens; his fear is so palpable Hitoka’s heart nearly breaks. He bows his head, but before he can apologize Hinata asks,  _ what’s so wrong with being a king? _

Kageyama stares at him, and Hitoka can tell the words have awoken something in him. They walk back on court, and there’s something different in his setting, now. Something that pushes his hitters even further. 

Hitoka has never known why they always called Kageyama a king. She had always thought the name fit Hinata better, but here, in Karasuno High School’s dingy second gym, she doesn’t think she’s seen anyone more regal. The towel that Hinata plopped onto his head looks strangely like a crown. 

He throws his towel into Hinata’s face and the moment snaps, but the image doesn’t; he stands with his back straight and his head held high. He looks regal. He looks like a king. 

It suits him. 

She’s only known him like this, royal and confident, for all of two minutes, but she already can’t picture Kageyama any other way. 

That’s fine, she thinks. This is a much better look on him, anyway. 

~~~

Hitoka thinks that it was far too easy. 

There was the service disruption on the way to their gym, but going back to the stadium went smoothly. Too smoothly; in her few months as a manager, one thing she learned is that nothing ever goes as planned.

So when Hinata opens his bag and yells, “I don’t have my shoes!”, Hitoka is barely even surprised. 

They manage to get ahold of the people who took the bag, thanks to some quick thinking from Kageyama. Takeda-sensei looks unfazed in the face of Yamaguchi’s panic. “Excellent,” he says. “They’re not too far from here. Well then, we’ll-”

“I’ll go get it, Sensei,” Shimizu says. 

Hitoka’s eyes widen. “No, shouldn’t I be the one to go?” Shimizu is always the one on the bench, after all; if one of them were to be late to the game, better for it to be Hitoka. 

“It’s okay,” Shimizu says, her grin conspiratorial. “I’m pretty good at running.” Hitoka remembers their conversation from last night. Track team. Hurdles. Badges of honour. Shimizu will get back in time. 

“I won’t be long,” she says, brimming with confidence. Her gaze turns more serious. “I know you’ll feel a little lost without me, but you’ll just have to get used to it.”

Hitoka meets her eyes, and understands that Shimizu is not just talking about this match. Not just talking about today.  _ For us third years, it's our last one.  _

“R-right!” 

The whistle blows to mark the end of warm-ups, and Shimizu runs into the gym above their banner, flying through the crowd. Hitoka can almost see the pair of wings behind her. 

She doesn’t wear a uniform. She isn’t on the court, but she is an important part of this team regardless. She tosses Hinata’s bag to Hitoka, and it feels heavier than a pair of shoes should feel. 

It feels like expectation. It feels like hope. It feels like she’s passing the torch. Hitoka catches it, and it feels like a promise. She will not let her team down.

Yachi Hitoka sits on the bench for the very first time, and she vows to do her best. 

~~~

They win their first match. They win their second, and then their third. Karasuno faces Kamomedai in the quarterfinals, and for a second, it looks like they might break Kamomedai’s wall. 

But Hinata Shouyou spent the past 3 days defying gravity at every turn, prying himself off the ground, reaching higher than his height should’ve allowed him with every jump. 

And on the tail end of Day 3 hell, his wings finally give out.

Yachi Hitoka knows the symptoms of a fever. Aches. Sweating. Weakness, lack of energy. Yachi Hitoka does not think that these things suit Hinata Shouyou. Sickness does not suit him, but that was not up to her to decide. 

She’s always thought of Hinata as the sun. He lit up the world effortlessly, brought an energy with him wherever he went. Always bright, always moving, always  _ there _ .

But this time, she watches him on his hands and knees with a 39.1 degree fever, and she thinks of Icarus instead. 

Raw athletic talent and hours of practice were held together only by the frail wax of adrenaline. It hadn’t been enough, under the blazing lights of the orange court, in the face of Kamomedai’s soaring wall. 

Shimada calls a cab to take them to the hospital, and they watch the game on Kozume’s tablet, watch as Tsukishima’s legs give out from under him. She has to close her eyes, but Hinata’s stay glued to the screen until the very end. Until the ball hits the ground for the very last time, scoreboard changing in Kamomedai’s favour. He hands her the tablet, and bows with his team. Sweat drips from his hair onto the hospital tiles. Hitoka has to swallow her tears.

They go back to the hotel and eat, and they don’t look defeated at all. They look hopeful. This is their chance, Hitoka realizes. For the first and second years to learn, to make a new team that’s stronger because of all their losses. 

So Hitoka eats, and she doesn’t cry. She remembers the weight of Hinata’s bag in her hands, and she looks at the third years, Shimizu’s words echoing in her head.  _ You’ll just have to get used to it.  _

The third years graduate. The new school year starts. She can hear her team yelling in the gym all the way from the club room. It’s a familiar noise, now. It calls for her to join them. 

She grabs a can of Air Salonpas, and she runs down to the gym. 

She’s going to work even harder than before. 

~~~

The first time she sees Hinata holding a book is a month into their second year, and she has to pinch herself to make sure it’s not just a dream. But the book is as real as ever, and Hinata is poring over it, and he’s using  _ sticky notes to mark certain pages _ . 

She blinks. He doesn’t even do that during  _ exams _ . 

“Yachi-san? Whatcha starin’ at?”

She jerks out of her reverie. “Oh! Sorry.” She sits down at the lunch table that they claimed as first years. “What book are you reading?”

“Oh, this?” He turns the cover over to reveal the title;  _ Mastery Series: Sleep _ . “I got it from the library. It’s supposed to help you with sleeping and stuff.” 

He shrugs. “I have trouble falling asleep sometimes before tournaments, cause I get so excited!” He grins, but it slips a little. “And, you know. Sleeping is important.”

Silence settles between them, but they’re both thinking the same thing. A sleepless night, a long match. Broken wings in front of a tall wall. 

“I’m glad,” Hitoka says softly. “That you’re learning to take care of yourself.”

He runs his thumb over the pages. “Yeah,” he says. His voice is quieter than Hitoka would’ve thought possible. “Me too.”

He breaks out his dazzling grin again, and Hitoka can’t help but match it. “Book’s a nightmare to read, though,” he admits. “I’ll need your help with some of the tougher parts!”

She smiles. “Of course.”

“Did I hear that right?” Tsukishima drops his tray next to Hinata, trademark smirk plastered on his face. “Are you  _ reading _ , Hinata? An actual book? Next thing you’re gonna say is that the King is doing his homework.”

Hinata’s face flushes angrily, and Hitoka sighs. Business as usual. “Hey!” he yells, making half the cafeteria look at him. “Don’t act so surprised, meanie!”

~~~

Coach Ukai had been right, all those months ago; their biggest enemy this year had been Date Tech after all. And Karasuno’s new team had come up short. 

Date Tech had a strong offense and an even stronger defense; their blocks shut down spike after spike, and it reminded Hitoka of the Kamomedai blockers. Karasuno’s new team was fresh, inexperienced. Their offense was as good as ever, but their blocks couldn’t keep up with Date Tech. 

Hitoka sighs. She was aware, of course, that them making nationals last time didn’t mean anything this year. That no win would guarantee another. The painstakingly detailed stack of notes she kept feel like a lead weight in her hands. In the end, Date Tech had just been the better team. 

She shakes her head. Her team needs her, now. They have a lot to do in the next few months. 

“Oh, Yachi-san,” Ennoshita calls. “We’re about to leave, we’re heading to the restaurant soon. Can you go find Tsukishima?”

“Oh!” She frowns. He isn’t with the rest of them? “Of course. I’ll meet you guys outside!”

Ennoshita jogs to where the rest of the team is waiting, their shoulders slumped and bodies tired. The sight makes her eyes sting; Hitoka is glad she has an excuse to leave. 

She finds Tsukishima in the hallway outside the gym, tucked away from the bustle of people watching the girls’ finals. “Tsukishima-kun!” she calls. “Coach is treating us all to a meal, it’s time for us to… go.”

Her voice trails off as she gets closer. Tsukishima wipes his eyes and turns away. Her brain screeches to a halt. 

“Sorry,” Tsukishima says. His voice is even. Perfectly composed. He turns towards her, and his eyes are red-rimmed and bright. “I’ll be right there.” 

“O-oh!” she stammers. “Okay. Yes.”

He catches up to her at the doors to the arena, and she hands him a tissue wordlessly. They join the rest of their team, and if anyone notices his red eyes, they don’t say anything about it. 

Later, as the rest of the team sheds tears over a meal, Tsukishima doesn’t cry. His eyes hold the same expression they did last year against Shiratorizawa, and Hitoka can almost hear the sounds of gears turning in his head. 

She almost feels sorry. The next time they play, Date Tech won’t know what hit them. 

She catches Tsukishima practicing extra, staying even later than Kageyama and Hinata. He’s the first one in and the one to lock up every day. The team throws themselves into practice games in Tokyo, every match a whetstone to sharpen their skills. Karasuno’s defense breaks over and over in the face of the Tokyo offense, and Tsukishima gathers the pieces and builds something new. Takes all that he learned and pours it into making a stronger shield than before. 

4 months later, they face Date Tech in the finals all over again, and Tsukishima will not be cowed. He built a blocking system that won’t crumble, sharpened an offense to pierce their wall. He blocks ball after ball, puts quick after quick past the blockers. They best Date Tech in the finals. They book their spot in the Spring Nationals, and Hitoka catches Tsukishima smiling at the awards ceremony. 

The sight makes Hitoka’s smile grow even wider. 

~~~

It’s just their luck again that they’re stuck in the same block as Inarizaki again. They’re set to meet them in round three instead of two, which Hitoka supposes is  _ something _ , at least. 

After their round two match, they gather for their meeting, Hitoka armed with notes from countless nights of watching and rewatching Inarizaki’s match tapes. They don’t have Aran Ojiro anymore, but they are just as good as Hitoka remembers. They have the twins, and the middle blocker from last year; they are a threat, no two ways about it. 

“Don’t count them out just because we beat them before,” Coach Ukai says, smiling wryly. “They may not have a top five ace anymore, but they’re probably even better than they were last year.”

They work their way through a video of Inarizaki’s match today, courtesy of Takinoue. “Miya Atsumu’s serves are as vicious as ever,” Coach Ukai sighs. “Suna Rintarou’s spike radius is  _ wider _ , if that’s even possible, and their new wing spiker is a threat too, the one who was a pinch server last year-”

“And we’ll have to watch out for the twins’ quick,” Hitoka adds. “It won’t just be a spontaneous move this time; they had all year to polish it.”

Coach Ukai tilts his head and looks at her, grinning. “That’s right.” 

She sits in the front next to Coach Ukai, the floor in front of them covered in her notes, full of everything she could find out about the Inarizaki lineup. The hours pass in a blur; before she knows it, the meeting is over. “I think that’s good for today,” Coach Ukai says, stifling a yawn. “Shouldn’t keep you guys up too late, we’ve got an early morning tomorrow.”

The team disperses, slowly, and the new rookies are crowded over Coach’s stolen tablet, watching game tapes of Inarizaki. Hinata stands over them, his hands on his hips. 

“Don’t stay up too late, you guys!” he chides. “A good night’s sleep is important before tournaments!” 

Hitoka smiles fondly at their juniors as they chorus,  _ Yes, Hinata-senpai.  _ She thinks about  _ Mastery Series: Sleep _ , and it makes her heart warm. He is learning to build something stronger to reach greater heights. To let his body keep up with his ambition. 

Hitoka doesn’t think that she could be any prouder of him.

~~~

The next day, the foxes finally get their revenge.

In the end, Inarizaki, with Miya Atsumu at their head, had just been too strong for Karasuno. Hitoka had been right about the quick; it had changed from an improvisatory weapon to a highly polished one, one that was almost indistinguishable from the original. Karasuno had fought well. They had played their hardest, given it all they had. But Inarizaki had still been better. 

They’re getting ready to leave the court when Hitoka realizes that Kageyama isn’t following. He stands statue-still, holding the volleyball cart, face turned away from Hitoka. 

“Kageyama-kun?” 

“He was better than me today,” Kageyama says. He doesn’t sound sad, or defeated. Just - thoughtful. 

Hitoka follows his gaze to Miya Atsumu, grinning with his teammates as they trail off the court. It hadn’t just been Kageyama; Inarizaki had bested them as a team. “They were all better than us today,” Hitoka murmurs, but she isn’t sure if Kageyama heard her at all. 

“That’s okay.” Kageyama’s voice is quiet but determined. “I won’t let him beat me forever.” 

He walks away, pushing the volleyball cart with him. Hitoka can almost see the light glinting off his crown. 

She doesn’t doubt it at all. 

~~~

In third year, Yachi Hitoka wants victory as bad as Hinata Shouyou does, in her own little way. She’s not standing on the court and spiking volleyballs hard enough to take someone’s arms off, but she does her part to help them win. She has an eye for strategy and knows her team as well as Ukai-san and Takeda-sensei do. She recruits not one, but  _ two  _ junior managers that year, and she starts teaching them everything she knows. They’re so new, so inexperienced. Don’t know the first thing about volleyball. 

Hitoka doesn’t mind, though. They kind of remind her of herself. 

“The jerseys are here!” Hitoka calls, dropping the box onto the floor of the gym. It’s 2 hours before a practice match, and the team crowds around her as she hands them out. Number 3 for Tsukishima. Number 5 for Hinata; Tanaka’s old number. Number 2 for Kageyama, their vice-captain. 

And number one for Yamaguchi, bearing the line of a captain. Hitoka’s heart threatens to burst with pride. 

The jersey suits him. She doesn’t think anyone else could do a better job than he could. 

“Yachi-san?”

She blinks, realizes she was staring. Her cheeks flush red. “S-sorry, Yamaguchi-kun! I was just thinking-” she waves her hands awkwardly. “The jersey suits you, captain.”

He grins at her. “Thanks.” 

He looks at the shirt and his grin faces a little. “It’s so weird, though,” he says softly. He rubs the fabric between his fingers, back and forth. “I was the only first year not on the starting lineup. I’m still not even on it. And now-”

He breaks off, but Hitoka knows exactly what he means. 

“If you told me I would be captain 2 years ago,” he says, laughing quietly. “I wouldn’t have believed you.” 

Hitoka thinks about Yamaguchi 2 years ago, and thinks about him now; how, at some point in the last 2 years they had stopped being nervous when he stepped out on court and started feeling safe. How every time he steps up to the service line the tension leaves their shoulders. How he’s the only one who can stop Kageyama and Tsukishima from fighting, how he can push all their buttons to make them work their hardest. How he knows his team and has always taken care of them, even all the way back in first year. 

He is not their foundation the same way Daichi was, or Ennoshita was. But he stands on the court as their pinch server and the whole team steadies. The number 1 jersey in his hands does not surprise her at all. 

“I would have,” she says, and he looks at her, surprise written all over his features. 

“I think all of them would’ve made good captains,” Hitoka says. “I just think that you would’ve made the best one. And I have since first year. 

“You’re the bedrock of our year,” she tells him. “Regular or not, there’s no one better.”

Yamaguchi blinks at her, eyes wide, and he breaks out in a grin that rivals Hinata’s. “Thanks, Yachi-san!”

~~~

Hinata joins them at their lunch table holding an offensive looking green smoothie. The whole group looks at him, eyes wide. 

He frowns at them, and follows their gazes to the cup in his hand. “What?” he says. “It's just a smoothie.”

Tsukishima frowns at him. “The problem is not with the smoothie,” he tells him. “The problem is that it’s  _ green _ . Why are you drinking that?”

“It’s good for you!” Hinata says defensively. “It's healthy and stuff.”

Yamaguchi laughs. “Who are you, and what have you done with Hinata?”

Tsukishima wrinkles his nose. “It looks disgusting.”

“It  _ is  _ disgusting,” Hinata says, expression forlorn. 

Kageyama reaches over and takes a sip of it. He shrugs. “It's not that bad.”

“ _ You're  _ disgusting,” Hinata announces, snatching it back, but he drinks it anyway. The sight makes Hitoka smile.

~~~

They falter in the Inter-High preliminaries again, and Hitoka is starting to think that they’re cursed when it comes to this tournament. She’s disappointed, of course, but she doesn’t doubt their ability to come back from this. They’ve always been able to take their losses and use them to forge the team into something stronger. 

She, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi are called to a meeting with one of their teachers soon after their loss. She had been expecting a meeting for career counseling, but when she sees her fellow club members there, she has to stifle a groan. They all know exactly what is about to happen next. 

“Thank you for coming to meet with me,” their teacher says. “You have all indicated that you are staying in the volleyball club until the Spring Tournament, but as you know, third years are encouraged to leave club activities in order to allow for more time to-” 

Tsukishima makes a disgusted noise and walks out of the room, the door banging shut behind him. Yamaguchi has to stifle a laugh. 

Her teacher sighs and rubs his forehead, exasperated. “Yamaguchi-kun, Yachi-san, you should both hear out what I have to say,” he says. “This is an important time for you if you plan to continue your education. Most, if not all of your fellow third years are leaving club activities to focus on studying for the Center Test. I strongly encourage you to-”

“I’m the captain of this team, sensei,” Yamaguchi says, cutting their counselor abruptly. “I’m not going to leave them now. I’m going to take them to Nationals.”

He follows Tsukishima’s footsteps, closing the door much more gently as he leaves. Hitoka bows awkwardly towards her sensei, and goes to leave the room as well. 

“Yachi-san,” her guidance counselor says. Her hand pauses over the door handle. “I urge you in particular to reconsider; the members of the team could possibly earn sports scholarships. Some are not even planning on college at all. As a manager, you can't expect to gain something like that; it would be better for your future if you were to put your time towards studying. These exams will have a great impact on your future; it is unwise to do things that may impact your chances of scoring well.”

Yachi Hitoka is not a particularly angry person, but in this moment, her sensei's words set her blood on fire. She thinks about Yamaguchi and Tsukishima and Hinata and Kageyama, thinks about  _ her  _ team - she's a part of it too, no matter what this guy says. Her team, pouring their souls into this sport because they love it. And she loves it. This became important to her. 

She is no Hinata Shouyou, but her love was one borne from a little giant too; the feeling of a little giant’s hand in hers, telling her: Villager B can be important, too. 

They would understand, of course. But she doesn't know if she could forgive herself.

She’s watched her team play through broken fingers and fevers and knocked out teeth, because they love volleyball enough to keep going to matter what. She doesn’t know how she could call herself a part of this team without doing the same. If you’re going to join a group of very serious people, the rudest thing you could do is give a half-hearted effort. 

Yachi Hitoka only ever knew how to give half-hearted efforts until she met this team. Until she met Hinata Shouyou, who wouldn’t know how to give a half-hearted effort if he tried. She decided that day,  _ no more _ . She made her choice years ago, on a Sendai sidewalk outside a subway station. She made her choice then, and she’ll make the same one now. 

She turns around, hand clasped around the door handle. “Sensei,” she says calmly. “I am a part of this team. I will give my all until the very end, just like they will.”

She leaves the room before he can say anything more. 

~~~

Her team is waiting for her outside the room, Kageyama and Hinata and Tsukishima and Yamaguchi crowding the hallway near the guidance office. They all look at her as the door clicks shut behind them, eyes wide and worried. 

She has to stifle a smile. Her heart brims with love. They want her there. She wants to be there. And that’s enough for her. 

She walks past them, leading the way to the second gym. “Let’s go,” she calls over her shoulder. “We’re going to be late for practice.”

Hinata jogs in front of her, grinning expectantly. “So you’re staying?”

She looks at him, and matches his grin and his love, pound for pound, ounce for ounce. “Of course I’m staying.”

He leaps into the air, drawing the stares of all the passersby in the halls. “Woo-hoo!” His voice echoes into the halls, making several teachers poke their heads out to yell at him. Hitoka can only laugh. 

“C’mon,” Yamaguchi says, voice confident. “Let’s take this team to Nationals.”

She turns around, and smiles at her team. “Yeah!” 

~~~

Yachi Hitoka stands center court for the first time in her third year’s Spring High, and she thinks,  _ how on earth did I end up here? _

She would’ve never pictured this at the start of her high school career, that she would one day stand in the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium, the manager of one of the top four volleyball schools in the  _ country _ . She had started volleyball on a whim, but she learned to love it more than she could’ve ever imagined. Two and a half years of hot-blooded competition. A lifetime of love and friendship.

The five of them have been in this gym every year, but have never managed to make it here, with only one court in the center and all eyes on them. 

She is proud. She is proud of how far they have all come.

She’s watched Yamaguchi’s fear melt and harden into a shell of skill and courage, forged from a fire fueled by his own failures. She’s watched Kageyama grow into a setter that holds the trust of his teammates, and a king who wears the crown with pride. She’s watched Tsukishima learn to chase victory without fear, to let himself want and hurt and keep wanting all the same. She’s watched Hinata build stronger wings in order to fly higher, learn that flimsy wax and adrenaline are not enough to bring him as high as he wants to go. He knows now, better than anyone, that limits must be raised instead of pushed past. He is not the sun. He is just a human, but he learns to reach the sky anyway. 

And she’s watched herself - hell, screw that - she’s changed  _ herself _ , taught herself to give her all for something she loves, to work her hardest and put her heart into what she does. She found her place on their team. She is not Hinata Shouyou, but she is important, too. 

She may just be Villager B, but as she watches their backs on the court, she knows that they will turn to her during time outs, in between sets. Because they want her there. They want her help. Because she makes this team better in her own little way. 

The ball goes up. Yachi Hitoka smiles. 

Villager B can be important too.

**Author's Note:**

> SO LATE but happy yachi day!!! i wanted to get this out for her bday but then i spent like. 10 million years writing about kanoka. then this became.... so much longer than intended. oops.
> 
> i'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/luckygrub) if you want to scream about haikyuu with me!!
> 
> edited a bit as of 29/09/2020 :)


End file.
